


The Opposite of Love

by swtalmnd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Writin' Dirty 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: For an angel, hate is not the opposite of love.





	The Opposite of Love

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write something flirty and tripped over everyone's daddy issues. Thanks to Oceaxe & QueenThayet for looking over it for me while I argued about semantics. It's possible I have my own issues, but at least they're not daddy issues.

"Hate is not the opposite of love," said Castiel, his tone bland though his bitchface was nearly as epic as Sam's.

Sam and Dean paused their argument about condiments to stare at the angel who had appeared in their kitchen.

"What?" said Dean, really not sure why his hatred for green Tabasco sauce was making everyone bitch.

"How can you say that?" said Sam, hurt puppy face in full force.

Castiel cocked his head and said evenly, "Hate is still attention. Apathy is so much worse. The absence of presence, of feeling, of anything."

Dean flinched. "Well, I'm not sure that applies to condiments," he said, trying to deflect from Castiel's very real pain. From his own, and Sam's.

Sam went immediately sympathetic. "We love you, you know that, right, Cas?"

"I do, though your love is very different from Our Father's," said Castiel, unhappiness twisting his features. "I cannot feel it against my skin like a force. It does not ruffle my feathers with its reality. It is a candle to the sun."

Dean laid his hand against Castiel's, feeling warm human skin and the hum of angel grace beneath. "Candles still help," he said roughly, then cleared his throat. "Did you wanna, uh, hang out? We could use your help researching, maybe clean out a room for you, you know. Permanently."

Castiel looked Dean over, hesitating, and then asked in a very tired voice, "Could I not share yours?"

Sam blinked, eyebrows going up. "I, uh, I'm gonna just. Go. Research. Library."

Dean rolled his eyes and shoved down his knee-jerk anger; it wasn't like Cas didn't know he was bi. "Just to sleep?" he asked, ignoring Sam's awkward moose-scramble exit.

Castiel licked his lips and Dean thought, not for the first time, that they looked both dry and soft. "I wish to bask in your warmth however you will allow me."

"Cas," said Dean, feeling his whole body heat up in an embarrassed flush. But he'd managed to talk to Sammy about his feelings, and fuck if he wasn't gonna manage this. "What do you want?"

"I was hoping that your inclination toward casual sexual encounters would extend to me," Castiel admitted.

Dean cupped Castiel's neck and leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. "Ain't nothin' casual about you an' me, Cas." He took a deep breath and made himself grind out words he usually saved for Sam, for his mom and dad after it was too late to say them. "I love you."

A sigh went through Castiel's entire being, and he tilted his head in for an awkward kiss. "This is nothing like Our Father's love," he said, voice like gravel, like sex. "But it's more than a candle."

"This is more like a fireplace," said Dean, showing him a smoother kiss. "We gotta go downstairs, though, or Sam will literally never stop bitching about kitchen sanitation."

Castiel huffed a laugh, wrapped Dean in his arms and his grace, and pulled them both to the bedroom.


End file.
